


I Remember You

by MoonlightBrunette



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst and Romance, Drinking, F/M, Ficlet, Orlesians, Pregnancy, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-15
Updated: 2017-12-15
Packaged: 2019-02-15 05:05:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13023825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonlightBrunette/pseuds/MoonlightBrunette
Summary: Short little one shot I couldn't get out of my head. Inspired by the songI Remember You by The Tenors





	I Remember You

He hated these fancy soirees. The only redeeming thing were the free drinks. He fully intended to spend the night in an alcohol induced haze. He grabbed another goblet from the tray of a passing servant and looked around the ballroom. There were several people milling about, spreading the latest gossip between themselves, no doubt. The room was stuffy and hot, and the wine was, blessedly, going straight to his head. He made his way around the perimeter of the room, and stepped out into the gardens. There were people out here as well, but they were fewer and further between. He meandered along the paths, catching snippets of conversations as he went. He took in the flowers, the fountains, the greenery. His eyes drifted around, looking at everything and nothing, and then – there she was.

No, it couldn’t be her. She was hundreds of miles away, living in the Free Marches where he had foolishly left her. He looked closer; this woman was a bit heavier than Meg, and her flaxen hair was a bit longer, but the way she carried herself with that calm confidence… it must be her. He skirted around the edges of the garden, careful not to lose sight of her. She was chatting with several other ladies, holding a fan in one hand and a wine goblet in the other. He stopped to watch her, thinking back to the last night they had spent together.

 

_“Why can’t you take me with you? It’s only Orlais, it’s not like I don’t know how to handle myself around nobles.”_

_“I understand Meg, I do, but to know you were so close to the fighting… the thought would eat at me constantly. It’s better for you to be here, where it’s safe.”_

_She had laughed then, and he swept her into his arms._

_“You’re a fool to think anywhere in Thedas is safe, my love.” She kissed his temple, placing her other hand on his cheek._

_“You are safe here, now, in my arms,” he kissed her mouth, tasting the honeyed wine that lingered on her lips. She gave a soft moan, and pushed her body flush against his._

A servant brushed his arm in passing, eliciting a flurry of apologies. He waved them away after relieving them of two more goblets of wine. He drank one down immediately and placed it on a low wall near a secluded seating area. She was still chatting, though most of the women had drifted back into the ballroom. She had turned towards him more, to have her attention focused on the remaining women, and there was no doubt it was her. She looked radiant – her hair was shining in the moonlight, and her skin had a glow to it he had never seen before. Maybe he was more drunk than he thought.

_They lay in bed together, flushed and panting. Her head was on his chest, and he was running his fingers through her soft golden hair. He kissed the top of her head and felt her smile. She moved herself up to gaze at him, propping her weight on her elbow._

_“I will miss you terribly, you know that right?” he ran his hand down her hair again, following the curve of her back._

_“Yet you are still determined to leave me,” she chided with a small smile._

_“It’s not as though I have much choice. There is civil war in Orlais; I must return. Would you have me abandon my men when they need me?”_

_“I would have you take me there as well.”_

_“I would be happy to take you anywhere you pleased,” he growled, rolling her onto her back and peppering her chest with kisses._

_“Enough of you,” she laughed, batting at him as he held himself above her. “Neither of us will be able to walk tomorrow if you keep that up,” she pushed him down onto his back and curled onto her side next to him. “You can’t lead soldiers if you cannot even walk.”_

_“Aye but you’d get to keep me around longer,” he lifted his eyebrows at her with a grin, which made her laugh again. He would never tire of hearing her laugh._

 

She was laughing now. Not the sound he remembered, a measured thing meant to convey mirth but not born from it. The other women were making their excuses and farewells and moving back to the ballroom. She was left standing near a trellis full of blooms, sipping her wine and gazing at the flowers. He moved towards her before he had time to think about what he was doing.

“Meg.”

He stopped a little more than an arm’s length away and waited. Her gaze shifted toward him and she gasped. They stood there for long moments while she stared at him as though he was a ghost.

“Say something, Meg.”

“You,” she breathed. “I never thought I’d see your face again.”

She did not move toward him. She stood as though rooted to the spot, her fingers curled tightly around her goblet.

“It seems the Maker had other plans.”  He shifted his weight; she continued to stare at him. He cleared his throat, took another swallow of wine.

“You’re looking well.” She seemed to gather herself then, her grace returning to her in measured amounts.  

“Thank you. You are as beautiful as ever.” He took a small step towards her. “Your hair is longer.”

She gave a small huff, the air coming quickly from her nose.

“You haven’t seen me in over three years. There are many things about me that are different now.”

Her words had no bite to them, but they stung him just the same.  

“I’m sorry Meg.” He moved toward her again, but this time she moved back. “Please,” he said, reaching out to her.

“I can’t. You told me not to wait for you, you said I deserved a life.”

He remembered the morning he left, saying those words to her.

 

_“You shouldn’t wait for me; what kind of life will have you here, pining for a man that may never return?”_

_“I want my life to be with you. Why are you fighting so hard against this? I love you and I would continue to do so, with or without your permission.”_

_“Please, my love, don’t waste your years here waiting for me. I love you more than anything in this world, but I would not see that fate for you. You deserve to be happy.”_

_“I am happy. I am happy with you.”_

_“I’m sorry,” he stated flatly._

She had withdrawn into herself, holding her goblet close to her chest. The hand holding the fan was across her belly, as though she was attempting to keep herself from breaking apart.

“I meant it. Every word. I want nothing more in this world than for you to be happy Meg.”

“Why are you here?”

“I came at an invitation by the Comte, he wanted to parade me around in front of other nobles to show his connections.” He looked at the trellis, noting the vibrant red of the flowers that bloomed there. “Mostly I came for the free wine.” He looked back at her; she had a slight smile on her face. “You?”

She looked behind her, into the ballroom. She started to turn away, then stopped. She stood there a moment more, obviously torn between staying and going.

“I am here with my Lord Husband,” she whispered. “We are celebrating the announcement of our first child.”

She looked back at him then. He had never seen her look so sad. He attempted to school his face into something resembling happiness, though inside his heart was shattered. He should have known. He should have anticipated.

“Allow me to offer my congratulations to you both.” He bowed to her, allowing his face to slip into agony momentarily.

“We thank you,” she replied, giving a slight courtesy. “I must return.”

She turned her back on him completely and made her way up the stairs. She was almost to the doors when he called out to her. She paused, barely turning her head.

“I am glad to see you again,” he said.

She nodded, and waked through the doors into the ballroom. He watched her until she was swallowed by the crowds, then turned and set his goblet on the ground near the trellis. He looked back into the ballroom once more, hoping to catch sight of her one last time. She was standing with a group of nobles, still holding her wine with her other hand protectively on her belly. She was no longer alone; a man stood next to her with his arm around her waist. As the conversation progressed, he watched the man reach down and place his free hand over hers, over the child growing inside her. She smiled up at the man as he did so, gazing at her new husband with a fondness she used to reserve for him and him alone.

He turned and walked out of the garden, trying to forget that image, and knowing he never would.


End file.
